Wastelands
by MikiMoke
Summary: The Wastelands are full monsters and demons, with only the preachers and hunters of the Church to defend the people. Any demons caught near a human is immediately to be put down, be they on their side or not. These are the stories of the humans and demons who work together to make things right.


**Decided "what the hey" again and started this as a little side project while I'm working on my chapters for Love Me. This is very much AU, considering that this is neither set in Otherworld nor Assiah/Gehena/BE 'verse. More like it was something I wanted to give a try. May be just some one-shot pairings each chapter, or it may just develop into its own story arcs, but meh. We'll see how it goes.**

**Do not be surprised if some of these end tragically - I've been in a character killing mood lately -3-**

* * *

**_[01 - The Disgraced Knight and the Burned Shooter]_**

The moment he laid eyes on her, he knew she was trouble. It didn't matter that her blank expression said, "Calculative," and her silent steps shouted, "Predatory." All he knew, in that fleeting moment in the crowded bazaar, was that she was nothing but trouble to herself and everyone around her. She probably dived right into trouble; led it straight to her with her rather revealing style of dressing.

_(Every so often his eyes would trail down to her bare legs; he'd be lying if he said he didn't like what he saw.)_

It wasn't just trouble he saw in her - he saw a wall surrounding her, both physically and emotionally. She never so much as brushed a hand over another person, never even gave them a change to accidentally bump into her as they tried to maneuver their livestock through the narrow street; her gaze was too cold to be welcoming, and every vendor she glanced at visibly shrunk away, their voice lowering just a tone before rising again to pitch their sale. That alone had him interested in her; had him tailing her just to see who she was. He knew almost everyone who walked past - it was easy to recognise the faces of those who spat at him, drove him out of the palace before throwing him onto the streets - and yet this girl was one he'd never seen before. This dark-clad, dark-haired, blue-eyed girl who walked with so much purpose, so much grace.

He'd been following her for quite some time now, and it was obvious she'd noticed not even a few minutes into the pursuit that she was being followed. She knew it was him, even if he'd managed to blend in with the crowd. It was an easy trait to pick up for him - all he had to do was pull up his hood, keep his head low, and ignore the vendors like he wasn't starving for his first bite of food in two weeks. No one seemed to realise he even existed anymore thanks to the skill; and yet this girl saw him immediately. Saw right through it all and looked him straight in the eye.

_(They were almost the same shade as his, a fire seemingly lit within them. He wanted so bad to run to her side and question her, find out everything he could about her, but stood his ground as he kept his distance.)_

More time passed, and she'd almost made it to the outside of the city. Almost hit the beginning of the desert and the end of the coastline. He wasn't sure if he should follow her, knowing that all he had with him was his old sword - damaged and rusted from years of neglect - and she seemed to be armed with both guns and blades. If she turned out to be more than trouble, more than dangerous, he would be instantly regretting following her.

But, as she nodded mutely to the guard at the gates and casually strolled out of the city, he still followed. He still followed as she climbed the first sand dune, and still followed as the dry and hot day turned into the cold and unwelcoming night. He finally came to a stop when she reached into her bag, pulling out what appeared to be three small logs, and watched as she set up a small sleeping area for herself. Her bag, albeit small, seemed to fit anything inside of it. He was amazed everything she owned even fit in it.

She turned to look back at him once she was done laying down her blanket, waiting to see what he would do. He just stood there, doing the exact same as she was, and watched as she turned back to her logs and held a hand out toward them. This made him even more curious about her.

He thought he saw a spark of blue fly off of her fingertips, falling onto the logs before going out with a small sizzle. For a moment he thought she was just like him - filled with a blue blaze that came only from being born of a monster - but when she began to push down on the logs and make sure they weren't going to roll away, he felt his hopes diminish and his curiosity lower.

A fire was lit the old-fashioned way - she grabbed a small stick from inside her bag and began to twirl it on the logs - and soon enough she was warming her gloved hands in front of a warm fire. He still stood there, though, unsure of what to do now that he was so far from the city he dared call home at such a cold hour. Did he risk death in hopes he would make it back to the angry people? Did he risk death by waiting to see if this girl was any type of dangerous? He wasn't sure.

A hand reached out to him, beckoning him, and he jumped when he realised this. He cast his gaze upwards, meeting hers, and slowly took a few steps forward. Soon enough he was seated a bit of a distance away from her, but still close enough to feel the fire's warmth. That was all he cared about right now, especially since his worn out cloak was doing nothing to shield him from the chill.

She barely spoke any words, but she had thrown him a blanket and some food from her bag. She watched him as he wrapped himself in the blanket and examined the food, turning her attention back to the fire when he began to stare at the cleanly cut meat in awe. He recognised this style of cut - this meat came from one of the beef vendors' stalls. Possibly the one closest to the gate. But he hadn't once seen her take out money and pay for it, nor had he seen her swipe anything. So how...?

"How did you steal this?"

The question came out before he could stop himself, and he immediately regretted even opening his mouth. She merely shrugged, kept her eyes on the fire, and grabbed her own piece. She skewered it on a stick and held it in front of the fire, watching it cook slowly.

"People don't pay for an unbroken animal," she told him quietly. "Sometimes the animal has to take what it needs by force."

He shuddered, hardly expecting such a cold and meaningful answer, and decided to ask for a stick to skewer his meat with instead. She obliged, handing him a stick, and the two remained silent for the rest of the night.

* * *

"We had better get good money for this," he grumbled, readjusting his grip on the demon's body. It was a heavy eleven-footer, with rather large horns adorning its head. Apparently this particular demon was a Greater Demon, and also the sick bastard that had been snatching children from the small town across the river.

"We won't," she sighed, cracking her knuckles. "We never do."

He sighed back, his shoulders sagging a bit. "Yeah, we don't," he agreed. Despite the fact that they were skilled in demon hunting and rescuing missing children (well, that part was really just a given when it came to dealing with the damn monsters), nobody could get over the fact that he was the son of the Demon Lord and she had embedded a demon eye within her own. Such small details to be weighed against such prize-winning horns.

Nevertheless, they were more than capable of pickpocketing without being noticed.

_(Not that he minded, either - it felt like a well-deserved treatment to the damn "noble" bastards who always cried for their help.)_

"Oh, well," he said, stopping for a moment. She turned to him, curious, and watched as he dropped the demon to the ground. He lifted his shirt slightly, unwinding the tail that was wrapped around his torso, and let it sway about behind him. He'd been hiding it for some time, despite the fact that no one was around to see it. "At least we can rub it in their face that demons are protecting them."

"Speak for yourself," she retorted, starting to walk again. He let out a small laugh, telling her she was just as much a demon as he was, but she ignored him. She always did when it came to this subject.

They begin to walk again, the town's gates coming into view. It would be the same old deal: They would demand to see the dead demon; they would demand to know if any of the children were alive; they would demand they leave upon finding out that no, ma'am, your son was just a pile of bones by the time we arrived; sticks and stones would be hurled in their direction; the town would never welcome them again until yet another problem arose.

Sometimes he wondered why they still even bothered.

The gates soon turned into walls, the walls turning into the town itself. He stared up at how high the walls reached, frowning to himself, and felt his tail swat against his leg in anticipation. Part of him was expecting violence the moment people caught sight of them. Part of him told him to wait and see what happened; it was a small part, though. Very small part.

She lifted her hood above her head, lifting her scarf to cover her face. All the villagers would see was her eyes, and that was the way she liked it. He did the same, fixing his cloak and shoulder plate as well, and hauled the dead demon over his shoulder once more. Shouts sounded from the gates, forms running back and forth, and the giant iron entry swung open with a loud creak. A small group of soldiers stood on the other side of the gates, armed and cautious, with their commander and the Mayor standing in front of them. _Get ready for the sneers_, he told himself.

They came to a stop in front of the armored men, keeping their hands and the demon visible before dropping it unceremoniously in front of them. It had already begun to gather flies and rot, but the valuable things such as tusks and jewels were still good for the taking.

"Hunters," the Mayor said stiffly. He nodded to the duo with a small incline of his head. It was more than obvious that he didn't want to deal with them.

"Mayor," he greeted, returning the gesture. "We've killed the demon; sadly, we did not arrive in time to help the children."

The commander scowled. "Typical," he grumbled. Which was a typical response, he reminded himself.

"Now, now, Commander Haku." Someone pushed their way through the soldiers, book in hand and weapons held at his belt. A True Cross preacher, if the duo weren't mistaken. "No need to be rude. These people just saved your village from a dangerous Greater Demon. Show some respect."

"But Father-"

"_Mayor_," the preacher scolded. "I expect better of you, too."

The Mayor was about to object, tell him off for giving him orders, but gave up and slumped his shoulders forward. "Yes, Father Fujimoto," he growled.

"Good, good," the preacher said. He turned to the duo with a small frown, noticing their near-empty bags. They hadn't had time to steal the demon's remaining food before its cave collapsed, leaving them in a situation that required her sticky fingers. "Goodness, you look like like you've got almost nothing on you but the clothes on your back."

She nodded. "It is all we have, Father," she replied quietly.

The preacher's eyes went wide as he rocked back on his heels. "My, my," he laughed. "You two are in a predicament, then. Commander, have your men carry the demon through the square and to the church. My guys will handle harvesting it and transporting it back to the city. Mayor, I'm sure there's paperwork and people you have to deal with. Shoo, shoo! Off with you all!" He gestured for them to leave in a childish manner, earning raised brows from the hunters. They glanced at each other, uncertain what this man's angle was, and jumped as he turned to them. The commander and the Mayor were leaving, as were the soldiers.

"Now, then," the preacher went on. "Would you two care to join me for lunch?"

* * *

He yawned loudly, stretching his limbs as far as they would go. Like every other morning, he almost forgot that the cabin belonged to them; which meant, like every other morning, he panicked and rolled off of the mattress in hopes he would make it outside in time. The moment he hit the floor, he spotted his things scattered about in every direction. He only ever left them away from his bag if he knew he was staying for more than one day; this would remind him that he lived here.

And, like every time he made this mistake, he slammed his palm onto his forehead in embarrassment.

Tail hitting the ground a few times, he rubbed his eyes and stood up dazedly. Making this mistake was annoying, he had to admit, but it was habit. All those years with his partner, avoiding the Church, and then not even a month ago Father Fujimoto pulled rank as Paladin to give them what they wanted: A home.

(Another thing he didn't like admitting, aside from the fact that he actually liked having a tail, was that he was happy to have a home now.)

A knock sounded on his door, jolting him from his thoughts, and almost immediately it opened. He looked up curiously, spotting the young eyes of Yui watching him, and he smiled at the sight of her. Yui Sakamoto - a poor girl who had been tormented by small-fry demons - had lost her parents at an early age like he had, and was often at the receiving end of a Goblin's torment and mischief before the duo had met her. Fujimoto had been the one to take her in when they helped her, but she had chosen to stay with them when Fujimoto got them their house.

She was almost like a daughter to him, in a way.

"Morning, Yui," he said, leaning back against his bed. His tail had calmed somewhat, no longer swatting the ground. Yui never seemed to get nervous around it, he noticed. He was grateful for that. "Mato up, too?"

Yui nodded, smiling a little. "Uh-huh," she said. "She said you have five minutes until we run out of meat for breakfast."

On any normal day, he would've gotten up in a flash and bolted out the door in a race for the kitchen. But today he felt a little more relaxed than that. "That so?" he laughed. "Well, guess I'll just have to con her into making more while I sleep in for ten more minutes."

The reply made Yui pout, and she stormed into the room with puffed up cheeks. It looked more funny than intimidating, especially with her frilly pink nightgown. "No!" she huffed. "You're coming out to eat breakfast!" As if making a point, she grabbed his hand and began to pull as hard as she could. He could only laugh as she fell onto her behind instead.

"Okay, okay," he said. "I'll come out and eat. Sheesh! You used to be so shy and quiet! What happened to that?"

"I got used to you," she replied sweetly. "And now you have two minutes."

He laughed out loud, making a growling sound before standing and whisking her off of her ground. She screamed with a giggle, telling him to run faster as he dashed out of the room with her hoisted over his shoulder, and then finally they made it to the dining room. The meat and rice was freshly cooked, ready to be eaten, and he could've sworn he saw steam rising from the boiled grain.

It made his stomach churn a little in anticipation.

Mato emerged from the kitchen at that moment, spotting the two of them eyeing the food eagerly, and let out a sigh as she sat down. He looked up at her, searching her face for an indication as to why she'd let out the sound, but all he saw was fatigue.

"You look like you didn't sleep a wink," he observed, plating up some of the meat. "You look like crap, actually," he added with a laugh.

She flipped him the bird before digging into her rice.

"Rude," he gasped. He pointed to Yui next. "Yui, don't do that to random strangers on the street; save it for assholes who deserve it, okay?"

"Yes, sir!" Yui agreed, saluting. He patted her head with another laugh, then began to dig into his own food. The trio were quick and big eaters, devouring at least a serving more than regular people ate per meal. He and Mato couldn't quite help theirs - they were part demon, and required the extra energy to function at their peak - but Yui had delved into the habit of eating like them after the first two weeks, when she was confident enough to start whacking their fingers with her chopsticks in order to get the last slice of ham on the table.

Shiro had said the trio would be fat by the time Yui hit adulthood. They just continued to eat and offered him a bowl.

It took them almost fifteen minutes to finish, and by then the plates were cleaned of food and the trio was filled up for the next few hours. Mato began to clear the table, hardly waiting for him to help her. He stood, picking up a few plates, and let his mind wander after the second plate.

After Fujimoto had offered the house to them, he had asked if Yukio - his brother - had played any role in organising such a feat. Yukio had slowly been working up the ranks in the True Cross Church, working to be a hunter and a preacher, but he didn't know much else about Yukio aside from that. He didn't even know if Yukio remembered him at all. Fujimoto had laughed at him, patted his shoulder, and told him that Yukio had played no part in the house plan; but he had made a point to add that Yukio was doing greatly with his duties, and even commanded a district of hunters in the home city.

He'd never felt so relieved in his life to hear such words from a preacher.

Mato grabbed a plate he'd been lingering his gaze on, making him snap away from his thoughts. He blinked a few times, coming to his senses, and looked up to see her staring at him with concern.

"Something on your mind?" she asked quietly. He blinked again, this time grinning as best he could.

"No, no, no," he said. "Nothing at all. Just zoned out for a minute there."

She didn't look entirely convinced. He wasn't, either.

Before she could reply to his statement, a knock sounded from down the hall. It was a knock on their front door, and it raised a bit of curiosity in the duo. Yui watched from her spot, curious, and waited as he began to make his way down the hall and reach for the door.

Hardly anyone but Father Fujimoto and a select few in the Church knew that he and Mato were living there. Mostly bandits and travelers passed the house, expecting shelter or loot. He expected either a very weak fight, or a very tired man with multiple suitcases.

He reached for the door, ready to open it, but was thrown back when the door was forced open. Men of the Church stood there, weapons at the ready, and almost immediately he turned around to run. He didn't know these men. He didn't know who they were and that meant they sure as hell weren't one of the ones protecting him and Mato.

So close to the kitchen, he told himself, but he was soon tackled to the ground by six of the men. In a last effort to warn Mato, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "Black Rock Shooter! Call my name!"

A crash came from the dining area. Yui screamed at Mato to turn around. The men didn't pursue. They were only after him. Not her. Just him.

Good, he told himself. That was a good thing.

_Good_.

* * *

"Rin Okumura, you have been summoned here by the Paladin himself: Arthur Augustus Angel. You are to speak when spoken to, and are required to tell only the truth. Should we suspect you are lying, your execution will be prematurely carried out."

He felt his lip twitch as the woman read out the terms he had to follow, his anger boiling inside of him. This was insane. Where was Shiro? Why wasn't Shiro Fujimoto listed as the Paladin?

A door opened across the room; he didn't bother looking up. He knew who was coming in, and he didn't care. He wasn't going to accept this guy was Paladin until Shiro himself told him he had retired.

"Is this it?" a displeased voice asked. The woman nodded.

"Yes," she said. "This is the halfling that Shiro had sheltered before his passing."

A _tsk_ filled the air. "Not very impressive. I expected it to be bigger - more fearsome."

"We all did, sir; but he still has the strength of the monsters in him."

There was a pause for a few seconds. He wondered what this Angel man was thinking. Was he thinking of killing Rin here and now? Was he thinking of finding Mato and Yui? Over his dead body!

The sound of metal scraping against a sheath hit his ears, and before Rin knew what was going on he felt the cold sting of a sword raising his chin, the tip cutting though his skin slightly. He was forced to look up and meet the gaze of the blonde man; actually acknowledge his pure white clothes and angelic appearance.

"Rin Okumura," he said, testing the name. "Okumura... Okumura... We have a preacher here by that name, do we not?"

"Yes, sir," the woman said. "Yukio Okumura."

"Tell me, Rin Okumura. Have you any family in the Church? Anyone you wanted out of your life because of your heritage? Perhaps vice versa?"

Rin barely hesitated with his reply. It had been the same every single time Shiro asked him the question for practice. "Okumura was the name Shiro gave me," he explained. His throat felt dry, his words raspy. "I'd no idea it was the name of one of your hunters. Would've declined it, if so."

Angel stared at him, eyes blank, before moving the sword away from Rin's neck and plunging it into his left leg. Rin tried to bite back the scream, but failed completely as the blonde shifted it around a little.

"I do no appreciate being lied to," Angel said simply. "Even if that was the truth, I believe it best you know what's coming if you do decide to feed me bullshit."

Scowling, Rin managed to spit out, "Hard not to when you look like your haven't taken your head out of your ass since childhood."

That earned a backhanded slap to the face.

Angel removed the sword from Rin's leg, turning his nose up at the younger male, and looked to the woman with a frown. "I want him executed by dusk tomorrow," he ordered. "I doubt we'll get much information out of him on the subject."

The woman nodded, wrote down the order, and watched as Angel left the room with a huff. Rin watched also, glaring a hole into the back of his blonde head, and prayed to anyone listening that the man met an unfortunate end in the very near future.

* * *

He found it no surprise when the four guards escorting him to the execution grounds suddenly dropped dead on the spot. He found it no surprise that a figure would come out of the shadows and began to break apart his chains. He found it no surprise when he was pulled into a hug by the smaller form.

He did find it a surprise when Mato's lips met his own, quickly and lightly, reminding him that they were on borrowed time.

She guided him the way she came, through the tunnels she'd discovered during his interrogation. He felt somewhat proud of her, pleased that she'd never given up on him and tried to help him get out.

(More so, he was pleased she hadn't forgotten him. Hadn't abandoned him. Nothing else would've hurt more than to think she'd left him behind to die.)

Their trip through the tunnels beneath the Church was tiring. They ran and ran, taking no breaks and turning every corner, until all they could see was the freeing light at the end of the path. Mato reached for Rin's hand when they came close to the exit, stumbling a little but recovering as quick as ever, and then the duo were running out into the sand they knew all too well. Behind them was the walls of the Church, the shouts of the civilians demanding they see the halfling be executed, and the panicked organisation of the hunters who spotted Rin and Mato running for their lives.

The hunters didn't even come close to catching them.

When they finally stopped, they'd reached the inn Mato had left Yui at. They collapsed to the ground, right in front of the stable, and laughed breathlessly. After all the time they'd spent domesticating themselves and raising Yui, they'd forgotten how hard it was to run from hunters; how breathless they'd felt every time they outran the horses the holy men rode. It was a good feeling, Rin told himself. It was familiar.

Mato still hadn't let go of his hand, her eyes trained on his face as he tried to catch his breath. She hadn't ignored the small limp he'd been displaying as they'd ran, and had worried the entire time that he would stop and tell her to go on. She hadn't wanted that - she'd feared he would demand it.

She rolled over, wrapped her arms around him, and buried her face in his chest. He returned the embrace, the duo laying on the ground in silence for some time before she spoke up for the first time since seeing him.

"Scare me like that again and I'll break your legs, y'hear?" she threatened. He petted her head with a laugh, nodded.

"Loud and clear, Mato," he said. "No more scares. From now on, we keep travelling."

Mato seemed to like that idea, nodding back to him before remarking, "It's about time Yui learned how to use a gun."

Rin scoffed. "No way," he argued. "She's better suited for a sword."

A pause followed, soon broken when the two of them said, "Both," and settled the argument.

Rin was happy. His Mato had come back for him, and he'd evaded execution at the hands of the new Paladin. He could see Yui again, could mourn Fujimoto properly, and could explore the meaning behind Mato's kiss. Rin was more than happy.

He was _alive_.


End file.
